


The Smell of Roses

by Timelord_From_Erebor



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash, Fingerfucking, Hardcore lesbianism, I'm not sure how to tag smut, Maybe fluff, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, porn with a bit of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 08:10:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21316954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timelord_From_Erebor/pseuds/Timelord_From_Erebor
Summary: Gwen and Morgana pass the time waiting for bathwater to boil in a most entertaining way.
Relationships: Gwen/Morgana (Merlin)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 101
Collections: Erotic Writers United F/F, Fanfiction Writers United Collections





	The Smell of Roses

Gwen entered Morgana's chambers carrying a large ceramic bowl filled with water. She was shaking slightly from the weight of it, enough to feel, but not enough for anyone but her to notice.

"I have the last of the water for your bath, my lady," she said, smiling her usual deep, kind smile. 

"There's no need to call me that Gwen, we're all alone. No one can hear what we call each other. Or anything else we might happen to say in the heat of the moment," Morgana replied, giving Gwen a cheeky look. She was never afraid of being found out, never afraid of what people might do or say, never afraid to be indiscreet when others were watching. Gwen wished she had that courage. Gwen wished Morgana's fantasy world was a reality.

"You're so silly," Gwen chuckled, almost sloshing water out of the bowl as she kneeled to place the bowl by Morgana's fireplace then walked back across the room and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Rain pounded against the windows, but remained unseen behind the thick, Pendragon red curtains, creating a perfect atmosphere. One where anything was possible and no one could intrude. "I love you so much, you know that?"

"I do know that. I love you too. More than you will ever know. Come, sit with me." Morgana gestured to her bed, dragging Gwen along with her other hand. Gwen pulled her hand away gently, feeling her calloused fingers drag slightly against Morgana's smooth hands.

"Just a moment, I need to put the water on to heat and scent for your bath."

"Or ours." Gwen laughed again at Morgana's tone and her subtle smirk. Morgana always made her laugh, as long as she'd known her; since she'd been a frightened girl going to work in the big castle for the first time. After Morgana made her laugh that first time, the fear disappeared, never to return. Never for the same reason, anyway, and certainly never as intense. She knew Morgana always had her back.

"You know what I mean. As much as I love you, I still have a job to do." There was a slightly awkward silence as Morgana gave a small, sad smile and nodded. Gwen walked back over to the fireplace. It was always an uncomfortable subject, Gwen being a servant. When it came down to it, neither of them truly minded, as it was what allowed them to be together all the time without question, what allowed them to meet, but they both tried not to mention it, to not open a carefully bound wound.

Gwen heaved an iron cauldron from a cupboard to in front of the fireplace and emptied the water from the bowl she set down earlier into it. She then lifted a bunch of roses from a vase that she had picked for Morgana that morning, that were already wilting, their fleeting beauty fading more every hour, and started plucking the petals from them, dropping them into the cauldron. The petals floated to the surface, and the firelight reflected off of the rose-covered water, sending ripples of pink light reflecting onto the high stone ceiling. She used a strong handle to lift the cauldron over the fire, so as not to burn herself, and covered it with a lid. The fire was dying down for the night, so it would take a while to heat and become rose water. If it were for anyone else, Gwen would've added a log or two and stoked the fire, but this was for her and Morgana. The extra wait suited them just fine.

As Gwen worked, Morgana sat on her bed watching, brushing the dust and smoke of the day and the feast out of her long hair, and wishing that she could run away with Gwen; that they could leave Camelot behind and live out their days in modesty and equality, in a place where people didn't know who they used to be. 

Once Gwen had finished her task, she joined Morgana on her bed. They sat in silence for a moment, facing each other, holding hands. There was a lot they could have talked about, a feast always leaves behind its fair share of tales, but they preferred silence. Silence was a luxury they were not often allowed. Even now, it wasn't true silence. The rain still poured outside, bringing many sounds with it, but the noises of a storm somehow didn't seem to count. 

Morgana leant over towards Gwen and lay her head on her shoulder. It was a little awkward, a little stretched, but neither of them minded. Gwen stroked Morgana's freshly brushed hair and laid a light kiss on the very top of her head. For the briefest of moments, she thought her hair smelled of roses, then the notion faded as she realised the true source.

"The rosewater will be ready for your bath soon."

"Our bath."

Yes, our bath." Gwen kissed Morgana, a deep, lingering kiss. Vulnerable, true, safe. She began to undo Morgana's dress, struggling a little to reach without disturbing their comfortable position. Morgana noticed the strain, the awkward positioning, how tired Gwen's movements were. She clasped Gwen's rough hands in hers and spoke.

"Let me. You've worked hard enough today." Morgana slowly undid her dress, smirking, daring Gwen to keep her eyes away, to ignore the display. Beginning their usual game. The two kept eye contact as Morgana struggled to remove her somewhat complicated garments. Gwen could hear her heart pumping in her ears, loud and fast with anticipation, almost drowning out the rain.

After a few painfully long minutes, Morgana's clothes lay piled on the floor, and she broke eye contact. Gwen understood. She lurched forward, desperate to touch her lover, desperate to feel her. Their lips collided and Morgana straddled Gwen, entwining their bodies as tightly as their destinies. As they kissed in a frenzy, a passion, Morgana moved to begin undoing Gwen’s thankfully less complex dress. The garments loosened and were thrown to the floor, getting caught on Gwen’s arm only briefly.

Morgana moaned softly as Gwen shifted and began kissing her neck, nipping slightly, creating the perfect amount of pain, danger, and lust. Gwen, encouraged by her partner’s display of pleasure, curled her left arm around Morgana’s petite waist, holding tight, and moved her mouth further down, this time to Morgana’s nipples. 

She circled them with her tongue, one then the other, swimming in sensation, the tightening of pleasure in her belly that stemmed from the sounds of her lover’s cries and moans. She tightened her grip, no doubt leaving nails marks in Morgana’s side, and sucked slightly, letting her teeth brush lightly against Morgana’s nipples. Morgana’s moans were higher now, breathless. Gwen shoved her hand between Morgana's legs, teasing her, making her want Gwen inside of her more than anything.

“Please,” Morgana gasped, “please.” The want in her voice was clear and desperate. Gwen pushed Morgana down onto her back, positioning her legs just under her own shoulders, and thrust two fingers into Morgana’s dripping vagina. Morgana let out a cry, grabbing the back of Gwen’s head and pushing it against her chest, using this gesture as a replacement for the word’s she could not conjure. “Harder, dear God, harder!” Gwen moaned in response, sending pleasurable vibrations through Morgana’s nipples and chest, and set to work. She kept pumping her fingers, feeling the warmth and tightness of Morgana’s walls around them, going as fast as she could. 

She slipped in a third digit and Morgana cried out yet again. Gwen released her mouth from Morgana’s now erect nipple, breathing heavily. Morgana, although still making all the sounds of pleasure, was squirming slightly more, trying to replace the missing stimulation to her nipples by creating more friction between her and Gwen’s fingers. She was so close, so close to giving in to ecstasy. 

Gwen liked this part. The part where she could see everything laid out on Morgana’s face, where she could be in control of how slow, how fast, how extreme. She removed her fingers. Morgana protested but stopped as Gwen began to kiss her gently, in a line down the middle of her stomach, following the thin line of hair down from her navel. She knew exactly what was coming. She knew the wait would make it better. But she didn’t want to wait. 

“Do you want me to start?” 

“Yes! I do, please, I do!” Gwen began lapping at Morgana's wetness. She licked in a slow, circular motion, her speciality. Morgana felt the pressure building up inside of her, begging to be released. Gwen gripped Morgana’s thighs and delved deeper, stroking Morgana’s walls, already sensitive from an intense session with her fingers. She then went to the pièce de résistance, the blessed pearl. Flicking her tongue as fast as she could, Gwen felt Morgana's thighs tighten around her head, tensing in preparation for release. She kept going, knowing it wouldn't be long now. She was right.

Morgana cried out, her back arching and her face contorting the way it only did when Gwen pleasured her. She collapsed back onto the bed, reaching down to brush her hand against Gwen's head, filled with ecstatic exhaustion. Gwen drew herself up the bed to lay on Morgana’s chest. They lay in perfect harmony, listening to the relentless rain pounding against the window.

The smell of sweat, musk, and roses mingled into a unique perfume that filled many of their nights together. As Morgana started to come to her senses once more, she breathed in deeply, trying to etch that moment in her mind. The two of them weren’t lucky enough to have many of those moments. Not the moments of sex, or after sex, but the moments of intimacy where they could truly just be, with no fear of being walked in on or summoned. 

“I should go take the water off so we can bathe,” Gwen said, a reluctance in her voice, a fear that if she walked across the room, the moment would be over. Morgana wouldn’t let that happen.

“I’ll do it. I haven’t contributed much tonight, but I think I can remedy that soon enough. Then we can dry off and go to bed.”

“Bed sounds nice,” came Gwen’s muffled, sleepy voice. When Morgana had gotten up to look for her robe, she had buried her face in Morgana’s sheets. She sat up, knowing that if she didn’t, she’d fall asleep and the moment truly would be over. “But you… contributing sounds even better.”

“I thought it would.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this fic! I quite enjoyed writing it, although I cannot tell you how many hours I lay awake hoping I didn't add in an extra limb anywhere or recreate physics.
> 
> It's actually the first time I've written smut, as you can probably tell, so I'd really appreciate any feedback so I can write better smut in the future.


End file.
